


A Year of Mixed Emotions

by bendybaps



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Kitchen Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-28 15:26:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/309317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bendybaps/pseuds/bendybaps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Over the spanse of a year, Sherlock starts to do something incredibly human; he starts to feel. For his flatmate nonetheless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Year of Mixed Emotions

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first smut ever written in the whole of time itself. I also like blowjobs so yea. There will be more to come... if you know what I mean. If you catch what I'm throwing. If you get what I'm putting down. Okay I'll stop now.

John had been living with Sherlock for a year now and, in Sherlock’s eyes, it was so far the best year of his life.

It was all so mundane yet so attractive. He finally had a friend. From the first “Oh God yes.” Sherlock knew he had something special. A new creature to devil in and study. It was Christmas.

At first, he had no idea what the hell was going on in his body. How could he? Never had anyone, someone that was all for himself. It was like an experiment in Sherlock’s mind. How can I watch this specimen grow? How can this new change in environment alter his idiot mind?

Two months into this whole new living arrangement, he learned that John was nothing close to an idiot nor someone who could be tampered with lightly. He wasn’t like all the other people who pushed the detective down and practically pissed on him. That’s why he lost all feeling from the people around him. It kept him from being a human toilet.

After three months of living with John, Sherlock felt these new humanly emotions ride in on heavy tides throughout his mind. They were less than subtle. Against all of the human development studies he had researched, this was totally wrong. You weren’t supposed to wake up with desires you’ve never had before in your life. But, never the less, it happened to Sherlock.

The next few months were excruciating. What if this happens to John? He would think. He was actually fearing regardless of himself. Oh God he just smiled at me, and damn it he’s chuckling and I enjoy it.

It was impossible to become acquaintanced with. Soon, John wasn’t just his colleague or friend or bro he was just his John and that was all there was to it. These feelings he tried to mask well but, when John would say something so humanly dull he couldn’t help but smile his ‘John I can’t hide my affection for you’ smile and of course John would notice and shyly look away, as if nothing happened.

You stupid feeble anthropomorphic you’re supposed to act on these ‘love dovey’ emotions obviously I just can’t he would think every time that mindless doctor would shy away from his seemingly unconscious advancements.

On the eleventh month of being with John, these feelings were getting to be unbearable. He lost sleep think about his charming obtuse doctor, and, even worse, he was getting distracted from his cases, the only thing he could solve and work ever since Watson entered his life.

All the things in his life, Mycroft, his mother, the cocaine, they never got in way of his beloved consulting work. So why was this man suddenly becoming a road block?

On the one year anniversary of living together, Sherlock finally discovered why.

It was just another terribly boring run of the mill Sunday morning, and Sherlock was moping around the couch, again befuddled by thoughts of the ever present image of John Watson. He used to think of so much more useful things.

The sound of soft slippered feet trudging down the staircase echoed throughout the flat. Oh goodie John was up Sherlock’s day could actually begin.

John shuffled into the living room and muttered a somber hello to his flat mate while making his way to their tiny cluttered kitchen. Sherlock got up from his resting spot on his couch and followed John, trying to mask his excitement of seeing his doctor for yet another day.

John was already at the stove, readying the kettle for tea. Sherlock stood at the doorway watching him. John was so oblivious in the morning, before he had his daily cuppa of course.

Sherlock studied further. John was such a man of habit. Every morning, he had his tea, made a slice of toast, with raspberry jam, sat down at the table and silently ate his breakfast. The routine was one of the many attributes Sherlock admired about John.

Watson was already seated, his cup of tea in front of bread along with his meager slice of toast and a steaming cup for Sherlock as well, undoubtedly with the right proportions of cream and sugar suitable for Sherlock’s taste. He sat down across from John and started to nurse his cup watching John’s sleep ridden face perk up with every sip he took.

“How did you sleep?” John asked

“I didn’t.”

John snickered, “Of course you did.” and took another bite of his toast.

Sherlock sighed, another ‘oh John you lovely fumbling idiot’ sigh strictly reserved for the doctor and proceeded to watch him eat.

“Any reason why you’re watching so intently this morning Sherlock?”

“Mmmm?” Sherlock was fixed out of his trance.

“You. Watching me. Reason?”

“Oh what? No no particular reason.” Stop being so fucking adorable and then I’ll stop watching you.

“Umm.... okay.” John blushed and went back to eating. Again with the whole ignoring thing. Sherlock mentally tutted. He was bolder with his weird antics this morning, hoping the solider would notice his more outward advances. Well, outward in his mind. John awkwardly coughed. Sherlock was still staring at him.

“Problem?” asked Sherlock

“Um no just I have a busy day today.”

“It’s a Sunday.”

“Why yes it is. Know your days of the week now?” John snorted irritably and went back to his toast. Woops better fix that.

“And I know the months too.” Sherlock said with a small smile. John blushed again. He was such a little schoolgirl sometimes.

The detective learned forward and put his head on his hands. John looked up at Sherlock, obviously very confused. What was this damned man up to today and why was he being all... nice?

Sherlock looked at John’s softly wrinkled face and his own features noticeably smoothed out in realization. His mouth circled and a gasped ‘oh’ escaped his lips. The new feelings towards John, they way he cared for him and strived to make him happy. The watching with a predatory gaze.

Oh

It was attraction. But something much more. Maybe even love.

His eyes widened in surprise. The puzzle pieces finally falling together. How could he not have seen it? The studying and the longing. It was practically under his nose!

John leaned forward to Sherlock, “Um Sherlock, are you okay?”

Sherlock tentatively put down his hands, they were so close to each other right now. John’s face taking up all of his vision. His drunk hazed mind couldn’t handle it. He learned forward even further, their noses almost touching.

John was frozenly distraught to say the least. Had he ever thought of Sherlock in a romantic way? Yes of course he did. But, it was soon shot down when he got the ‘I’m married to my work’ card. Did he necessarily want this? He was too overwhelmed to think properly.

Ever since he met the man, he thought of him as something new and exciting. Despite the ongoing experiments in the kitchen, the blatant disregard for societies' norm, John felt close to the surreal detective. Closer then he had with everyone else.

But, it was just like Sherlock to go off and do these bizarre things, so why should this morning be ever so different?

The detective moved forward and nuzzled his nose into John’s, as if he were a mating cat, and nipped at his lower lip. Oh yes. John did want this. Very much so in fact.

Please please let me do this John thought Sherlock. He nuzzled even further into John while reaching up a hand and embedding it in soft short blonde hair. Please let me explore you just let me be with you.

John, really understanding Sherlock for probably the first time in his life, nodded and they kissed.

It was soft, feather light, and totally undyingly magnificent.

Their lips encased each other for what seemed a life time, and sadly left each other with a small smack. Sherlock leaned in again, this time harder and sucked at John’s lower lip. John groaned and opened his mouth allowing Sherlock to finally explore the depths of the older man’s cavity.

John whimpered as his mouth was invaded by Sherlock’s ever prodding tongue. It felt so good. It felt so right.

Sherlock finally broke free, gasping for air. He was painfully leaned over the table, now both hands braided in Johns hair. He slowly released his grip and removed himself from the table, only to stalk around it and plant himself right in front of John. He forcefully scooted John’s chair in front of him, leaned over and started kissing the blonde man in earnest.

This time John was all game.

Their tongues fought for dominance. Sherlock got on his knees in front of a sitting John and snaked his hands around his neck, never the while leaving the doctor’s mouth. John scooted up further, his erection practically pressing against Sherlock’s chest and his hands, his old warn out hands, were just everywhere grasping and tugging.

Sherlock broke the heated kiss, needing some time to breath. Their foreheads were touching and he could feel John’s hot breath on his mouth, all sleepy morning remnants gone.

“I- I- thought you were- married to your- work.” John stated in a huffed exasperated love struck voice.

“Fuck work. I’ve got you know.” And with that Sherlock swooped down again practically attacking John’s mouth and moving down to his neck. His long skill full hands tugged at the bed shirt he was wearing, urging John to lift up his arms and get the damned thing off. John obeyed and Sherlock was on him again, sucking at nipping at newly exposed flesh.

The younger man naturally wanted to explore this new body, but, frankly, he was way too horny to give a fuck. There’d be other times were he could do that.

John moaned as Sherlock moved down his torso. God it felt so good. His hands made their way to Sherlock’s hair, mindlessly pushing him down lower until- ahhh there it was.

Sherlock mouthed John’s erection through his pajama trousers and the veteran nearly fainted with delight.

“Sherlock please.” He moaned

Sherlock moved his mouth from the newly formed wet spot on John’s night wear and replaced it with his hand.

“Please what, John?” He started to massage the bulge.

“Please.” John whimpered again

Sherlock grinned devilishly, his hand pressing harder on John’s erection. “Say it. Tell me you need me.”

“I- I- God Sherlock I need you.”

After that the taller man made swiftly made way of John’s pants, almost tear the drawstrings holding them up. He, also in hand with John’s underwear, ripped the articles of clothing down to John’s feet and the sight before him almost made him weep. Almost.

Johns length, now exposed, laid right before Sherlock. The detective smiled and looked up at John who was looking down with heavy lidded eyes. The doctor blushed and awkwardly looked away.

Sherlock would not, could not, have any of this.

“Look at me, John. Look at me while I suck you off.”

John turned back and Sherlock smirked again. Good.

He leaned down and went straight for the kill, encasing his whole mouth along John’s length. John shuddered and practically came then and there. Sherlock stilled, waiting for John to regain his composure. Once he got his breath back, Sherlock slowly started bobbing his head, his hands at the base of John’s cock.

He slowly quickened the speed and slithered a hand down into his own pants, diligently working on his own need there.

John groaned and put his head back on the chair, watching Sherlock all the while just as he was instructed to. He could feel his end coming closer with every swift bob of Sherlock’s head. It was almost too much.

He tightened his hands in Sherlock’s hair, silently willing him to go faster. And boy, did Sherlock do as he was told. His own hand moved furiously in his pants as he sucked John harder and faster. John’s hips were subtly moving with each dip of Sherlock’s head, thrusting Watson’s length further into his hot wanton mouth.

The incoherent babbles coming out of Watson’s mouth were at a their peak. With every suck from Sherlock’s mouth and nod of his head a string of wails escaped the doctor’s mouth. Sherlock was absolutely entranced, ready to come from John’s auditory instincts alone.

He could sense how close John was. With each thrust of his hips his lover’s (was he liable to call John that now?) breathing was becoming harsh and labored. Sherlock quickened the movement of the hand in his pants, determined to come with John.

He maneuvered his tongue skillfully around John’s cock and started sucking even harder than before.

“Oh fuck yes Sherlock just like that.”

Sherlock, eyes still boring into John, hummed around the hot member and with that his John came undone. The man came with a shout, practically ramming his length even further into Sherlock almost making him gag.

Sherlock branded the image of John’s climax in his mind. His diligent shout of ecstasy as he came was enough to make Sherlock come harder then he ever had before.

He sucked John dry, making sure to get a taste of all he was worth. John still stared at him, this time with affection and not a trace of bashfulness.

Sherlock mournfully let go of the member with a pop. John released his hands from Sherlocks hair, and ghosted them down the younger man’s body encouraging him to come slid onto his lap. Sherlock obliged, clambering up and straddling John, his still wet trousers now pressed against John’s spent length.

John grasped Sherlock’s waist leaned in for a kiss. A new kiss. This one slow and full of gratitude.

Sherlock was practically glowing. He languidly kissed back as John scooted him further onto his lap.

They stopped and just looked at each other, not awkwardly, just waiting for someone to acknowledge what happened.

“Sherlock that was-”

“I want to be with you.” Sherlock stated, getting right down to the case as he usually does. Even though it was against everything he believed, and frankly these new feelings were the scariest thing he ever had encountered, he still wanted this. More than anything in the world.

“Well that’s good because I want to be with you too.”

Sherlock smiled and nuzzled his head into John’s neck, almost purring. He swore he could never feel happiness and yet, here he was at the happiest moment in his life.

Finally, after a year of confusion and misleading want, he got what he desired.

And he planned on never letting it go.


End file.
